Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion The Smog │ SE Dominion of Chandaar

The banging ceased as the dagger sank like a fang into the guard’s neck. Ishani sensed Arcturus coming and greeted his arrival with a mixture of relief and fear. There were more guards headed their way, a group of four.

Abandoning cover, she hobbled over to the door, intending to grab Arcturus and pull him inside with her. But the door slid open just in time for her to see red blaster bolts arc past.

Fury rose in her. “Hey!” she yelled. “You can’t shoot at him! Only I can shoot at him!

Employing Tutaminis, she diverted the energy from the bolts back toward the guards with the Force. A couple of them fell, but the other two were still standing. She telekinetically seized one and crashed him into his comrade, bashing them together repeatedly like a child playing with action figures until they were both dead too.

Her rage proved a powerful motivator and an excellent fuel for using the Dark Side of the Force. She had been afraid when she was alone facing them, but now that they were targeting someone else whom she cared about, she was quick to anger.

In the aftermath of combat she turned to Arcturus, that anger still pulsing uncontrolled just beneath the surface. “Why did you come after me? I told you to stay away!

 

Darth Veradun

Guest
D

DARTH VERADUN

{ { { Objective: III. The Silver Lining} } }
{ { { Location: Chandaar} } }
{ { { Gear & Assets: Armor, Lightsaber, Com-link, Holotransmitter} } }
{ { { Tag(s): Arcturus Dinn Arcturus Dinn , Ishani Dinn Ishani Dinn , open} } }


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{ { { THEME } } }

The front door opens silently as it is lockpicked by the Force, the large figure smoothly moves in, a shadow still clad in his cloak, the hood deep in the face. It seems that shadows follow him as he moves into the complex, sticking to the shadows. Veradun grasps the mood in the building, apparently the moment of surprise is already slipping from their hands. And there is something else, panic? Care? Some weakness so strong one could smell it.

Darth Veradun advances through the rows of crates and pallets, when he hears the shot nearby. There it goes, the moment of surprise. He saw the last two die when he moves around the corner to see the origin of the shot. The pale man sighed slightly about the stupidity of these two 'acolytes', it was not their fault though, the various groups of Sith were watering the blood of the strong and washing away the edge the Sith should hold.

"Storm the building, maximum force." With a sighing tone he added. "Try not to shoot the acolytes."

With the lightsaber in his hand, he approached further through the hall, ignoring the door where the acolytes were behind and heading to the next section, the alarmed souls of the present were burning brightly, but they were not panicking, their souls were cold and professional, more of the elite guards mentioned by Intelligence. Sweet. A bit of sports. There were also protected spirits, Jedi. Beneath his hood and the respirator, Veradun started to smile as he 'opened' the final door with a Force augmented kick which send the actual door flying into the room. The man with the crimson blade following it.​

 


"Please, I'm not a graug.", he said with a wave of his hand.

"Stop the esoteric nonsense, and speak plainly.", he said with a frown, leaning forward as he lowered his tone and narrowed his eyes -

"Look, I know you're new to negotiations, but you're supposed to reply with a counteroffer - not stonewall and say 'no thanks'. There are a thousand armies in the galaxy that don't want to see the Graug succeed, and a thousand armies that would back us to take this planet from Vulcanus. Don't be so disillusioned in your false god that you'd make the mistake to turn us all into iconoclasts."

The threat was palpable, putting across plainly that he had no issues with taking the planet from the Graug warlord if need be. Perhaps not his forces alone, but the combined efforts of the lords against Vulcanus would certainly be willing; all he would have to do is make a few calls.

"So speak plainly - either gain something and keep the planet, offer a counter to the proposal, or watch as the Graug get slaughtered and your god strike one new defeat on his record.", Maliphant said, leaning back once more.

Sharan Maevel Sharan Maevel Taeli Raaf Taeli Raaf Baalagor Baalagor

 

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O B J E C T I V E: UNCLEAR
She took in a slow breath, her hand gripping tightly into a fist, as she was starting to lose her patience. The little scag rat she had picked up wasn't a soldier, wasn't a jedi, no, they were just some gutter rat that had information she rather wanted. So why wouldn't he break? The man in question had endured her best attempts to draw information out of him, and though he pleaded innocent, she knew that was a rotten lie. Innocence, true innocence, was a commodity, and creatures such as this one knew nothing about it. She threw a kick into his ribs, the man letting out a grunt as he was pushed backwards, his body strung up like a punching bag, her fibercord keeping him suspended to the main support beam of the run down 'interrogation center' she was running. Blood trickled down the man's face, dripping into the small puddle that had been created from his time here, his fingers swollen and purple from having been broken, his face swollen from several blows he had taken full force, and not a whimper was drawn out of him. It made her stark fething mad. Was someone protecting him? A jedi steeling his mind perhaps? Or mental conditioning even? Her anger simmered, slowly being pushed down, as she re-accessed her tactics. She glanced to the chronometer on her wrist, and began to laugh, seeing she had spent so much time with this man, and still had nothing. Her made snickering was muffled by the Beskar helm, her captured victim seemingly confused, wondering if perhaps his torturer had broken.

She hadn't. She was simply done with him. If he wouldn't talk, he would more than certainly burn. She made a motion with her hand, a 'whoosh' sounding as a gout of flame erupted from her wrist mounted flame thrower. She extinguished it in quick fashion, slowly leveling it towards her captive as her laughter ceased. "I've wasted enough time with you. Goodbye." She spoke, the man's face dissolving from stoic resilience into stark terror, as a cone of fire devoured him.

She should have stocked up on that truth serum stuff, maybe next time she'd give it a go.​

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Recalling his dagger after it sank into its target, Arcturus peered past the guard to the girl on the other side. She had been injured, he could see the scorch where the blaster bolt had hit, but she seemed good otherwise.
Well... frustrated. At him?
A blaster bolt which narrowly avoided him silenced that thought, if only temporarily.
He moved to the side as Ishani lashed out against the four of them, two blasted with the Force and the others smashed against one another. It was horrifying to witness, but at the same time his heart skipped a beat. There was something about seeing his girl protective and raging that spoke to him on a level he'd never experienced before.
Even when that anger was turned on him.
"You think I'd just leave you here alone?" he snapped back, moving to pull her back into the safety of the building she'd previously housed herself within. The door shut behind them.
"Force, Ishani, is that really what you think of me?"
A slow exhale brought some of his own racing emotions back down to a calmer state. They were still mid-task, they were still surrounded by potential enemies, he couldn't go shouting his mouth off. No...
He wrapped his arms around her, hoping to stem some of her rage in the process.
"We get you patched up, then we head out there and help the others. They can deal without two stupid Acolytes for a few minutes longer, alright?"
 
Her rage did not abate at Arcturus’ words or his touch. For a few moments, visions of violence played like a macabre symphony in Ishani’s mind. This had happened to her before, a few years ago. Caught up in a petty dispute with her brother, her anger had exploded, violent fantasies shot through her head from nowhere like arrows amidst a storm. She didn’t know what she would have done to him if her mother hadn’t come to stop her, and something inside her had broken down, replacing fury with tears and terror.

But she was no longer a helpless girl at the whims of something she didn’t understand. The Force was not a disease that took control over her body. She did not fear it. She stopped herself, clamping down on her emotions until they no longer held sway.

Arcturus had pulled her aside, back into the cover of the empty room. She could hear sounds of battle outside, but the door was sealed shut. They were alone.

I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her body tensed at first as he held her, then slowly relaxed into the embrace. “I, um, I already used some bacta…

She pulled away from him enough to sink back into a chair, taking the weight off her injured leg. She couldn’t access the wound without removing all or most of her armor. Not that Arcturus would have cared, but it seemed foolhardy to attempt such when they were in a combat zone. Otherwise she would’ve used one of her alchemical concoctions, something much more effective than mere bacta, to treat her injuries.

 
She was steadfast in his arms, like a cliff-face held against the breaking waves. But he gave her the time she needed, unyielding in his approach, and soon enough she softened.
"It's okay," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "You're okay."
Leaning back he gave her space to wiggle free, and as she sat upon the chair and explained what she'd already done he nodded his head. Nothing more they could really do then, though with her leg out of commission that did put a dampener on things.
"Can you walk? Properly walk, unhindered?"
Even as she answered though another idea came to mind.
"You healed me once, Ish... How? Show me how... And maybe I can do the same for you."
Then they could get back into the field. Then they could be useful once more.
 
I mean, I’m limping and it hurts.” She snorted at his offer. “I didn’t bring any Blush with me to wake you up with if you pass out from the strain, and I don’t think I can carry you around or tolerate you babbling deliriously about Sith philosophy while we’re being shot at.

Granted, he might be able to handle it better than she had. And what did they really have to lose? Don’t answer that.

Okay, fine,” she muttered. “Uh… here, sit down just in case you do faint.” She patted the seat next to her. “It’s not that complicated, really. It originates from a different place than the Jedi method of healing. Less selfless, more purpose-driven. You’re keeping someone alive in order to accomplish a goal, not just because they deserve life. So you feel out the wound, force it to close, will it to regenerate...

 

Other Space Kaiden

Better than other-other space Kaiden


OBJECTIVE I
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As the visage of Baalagor's guardian faded away from the holocom, something dark began to brew. The darkside itself shifted, The Force cracking beneath a burning gaze that turned away from the defiant factory and the Jedi within. Vulcanus quietly cast aside the communication device, his magmatic eyes focused on the distant horizon where The Sith Eternal's banners had just begun to rise...

"
Nar" the Burned God called out the name of his loyal warlord, the beast who had rallied the horde that now laid siege to Chandaar. The Plain's Graug answered at once, tendrils of sponge-like flesh dangling from his scalp like a veil of dreadlocks that hid his face from view as it bowed in awe and respect, "turn the Horde back."

"Back?" Nar questioned and just as quickly a much more human voice repeated the inquiry,

"Back?" The voice came from a human male dressed in a simple coat that bore no markings - an agent of Maliphant's shadowy organization, "Saint, if you recall this factory is imperative to the war effort. The Frum-"

A gasp of shock, then a scream of agony as Vulcanus' claws dug deep into the side of the man's face and raised him high into the air. Nar did not but avert his eyes further towards the ground while his Burned God peered into the bleeding face of the screeching spy, "yes...back to see your master, dog..." Vulcanus' lips turned into a drooling smile as he cocked his head to the side, "think of him while you suffer. Think of his face...wish for him to save you."

Steam rose from beneath Vulcanus' claws and the agonized howls grew sharp like that of a dying animal, "I want him to know that I accept his challenge....I want him to know that the Black Flame comes for him" the howls peaked as puddles of bubbling red slime pooled at the Great Khaan's feet. When the spy's last moments had melted away, Vulcanus cast aside the smoking carcass and commanded Nar to rise.

"The Sith on this world has challenged my strength. Turn The Horde back...slaughter anything that resists the commandment of your god" Nar scurried away to do his bidding without another word. Within minutes the horns would sound and the war beasts would turn on heel, their handlers lashing their hides and urging them forward. Soon the Sith Eternal forces would find themselves awash in an ocean of hungering claws and starving fangs, left with a simple choice.

At its head their saintly lord, his dark form marching toward the site of the negotiations.

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Darth Veradun

Guest
D

DARTH VERADUN

{ { { Objective: III. The Silver Lining} } }
{ { { Location: Chandaar} } }
{ { { Gear & Assets: Armor, Lightsaber, Com-link, Holotransmitter} } }
{ { { Tag(s): Arcturus Dinn Arcturus Dinn , Ishani Dinn Ishani Dinn , open} } }


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{ { { THEME } } }

Darth Veradun was on his own an impressive view, towering tall, broad and muscled, ghoulishly pale and with the Dark side burning brightly in his eyes. They heavy armour in which his body was clad, the dark cloak were just highlighting his impressive physique. It was obvious that he was liking physical confrontation and that his devotion was to combat, overpowering his enemies with brute strength.

But watching him in combat must be even more impressive, intimidating. Frightening. His strength was only matched by his speed and perfect techniques. Obviously utilising Djem So, he was using it in a one handed grip, bringing in enough strength to only use the second hand when it would be required - it rarely was. No movement was wasted, every block and attack was exactly where it needed to be and each strike was an executioners work.

Before the assisting soldiers could arrive, all but one of the enemies elite guardsmen were dead, the last one unconscious and slowly bleeding to death as his ribs pierced the lungs after his rib-cage was broken by a kick of Veradun which send him flying against the wall, additionally breaking his spine, so he was at least not feeling any pain anymore.

Now the black scheme of the Sith Lord was engaged in a duel with two Jedi, two green blades clashing with his crimson saber, their movement could not be followed with the bare eye, just impressions on the retina as the sound of clashing lightsabers continued.

Veradun smiled and his smile broadend beneath the respirator as the younger adversary sensed his amusement and got ever more angry. He was a padawan, the braid gave it away, but he was a fierce fighter, more desperation and survival instincts than actual skill or experience. The master was stronger, she was using a mixture of Shi-Cho and Niman, curious combo, as she tried to outsmart the Sith with her maneuvres. She was a Twi'lek in her forties, the padawan a human, late teens. ​

 
"But you do deserve life," he grumbled as she stated the differences, before taking a seat beside her and nodding to what she'd said. Purposeful. Alright, purposeful he could do.
Swallowing down some of his doubt, he reached out and lightly touched her just above where the burn lay. A slow exhale helped to quieten his mind from any distractions, before he drew upon the Force. At first he tried to simply focus with that silent mind of his, but he found that he wasn't able to properly grasp the situation.
A small amount of frustration rose up at that, which slipped his state of mind from one of peace to rumination. Frustrated that he couldn't do it, frustrated that she'd been injured in the first place, frustrated that he hadn't been able to end the one who had caused her pain. The darkside bubbled up from within as he seethed upon it all.
It was this new found focus, one which came from mulling on his rage, which opened the floodgates. It wasn't an effortless attempt, and likely on her part it caused some discomfort where the wound was concerned, but even so slowly but surely the skin began to knit together.
Certainly it wouldn't be without a scar left behind, though. In fact in the aftermath Arcturus felt certain his own leg was beginning to ache too...
 
For a few seconds, Ishani was left to sit and watch as Arcturus tried to focus. The silence wasn’t quite uncomfortable—the tense sounds of battle outside prevented it from becoming awkward—but she wasn’t sure if Arc was going to be able to pull it off. Having to limp out of here was something she’d rather avoid, as long as there was still fighting to be done a—ah… ow?

The pain in her thigh had grown sharper. She hissed air between her teeth, wincing, but resisted the urge to jiggle her leg or otherwise squirm. Arc was definitely doing something. The strain apparent in his expression and the sensation of her flesh knitting back together told her that much.

Before long, a dull ache was all that was left of her wound. She stood up carefully, putting her weight on her injured leg, and found that she could walk just fine. The pain could be dealt with.

She turned to Arc, detecting pain rolling off of him that mirrored her own. “Don’t tell me you took my wound upon yourself,” she said, immediately stooping to examine his leg. No blood was apparent, but then she might not be able to see everything, and she wasn’t about to start pulling his armor off. At least, not here and now. “Healing me shouldn’t have made you a cripple in turn. That would kind of defeat the purpose.” She looked him over. “Can you still… oh, who am I kidding. Of course you can fight. You’re Arcturus Thesh. This isn’t enough to stop you.

She touched his cheek for a lingering moment, then rose, holding out her hand. “Come on. I hear lightsabers clashing. Let’s go beat up some Jedi.

 


Maliphant glanced away from the gathering to look at a small screen on his forearm. A message appeared, brief as it were, but weighted in its contents - 'The Graug are moving on the city.' No doubt due to the poor diplomatic efforts of Baalagor - but Maliphant couldn't expect much from a race who's collective brain power didn't even match a tsil crystal. He sighed audibly, interrupting whatever was occurring as he stood -

"It seems Darth Vulcanus has made the decision for you, Baalagor Baalagor . Our fleets and armies will be here soon, to protect the fine citizens of this planet from your malignant presence."

Offering her, and her guards, a small grin - he motioned for those who had joined him on this endeavor to begin to depart.

"Sith Lords and Ladies, I believe it is time we reconvene somewhere with less of an odor."

And so, the group began to leave.

Taeli Raaf Taeli Raaf Sharan Maevel Sharan Maevel

 

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